Chapter Seven – The Unexpected Guests
Katrina entered the formal living room, a warm comfortable space done in silks and velvets, using warm earth tones punctuated by marble accents. She walked to a broad fireplace with cheery fire crackling merrily beneath a marble mantlepiece. As the clock began to chime the nine o'clock hour, a puff of green smoke announced the arrival of Albus Dumbledore, followed closely by Phineas and Penelope Muggworth – known to Wilfred as "The Grans". Greetings, kisses, hugs, and hearty handshakes were exchanged all round.
Dumbledore, after embracing Katrina, spun her as Wilfred had done, saying, "my dear, I believe you grow younger and more lovely each year. As does," he turned to Penelope, "the delightful Penny as well," he beamed as he took them one on each arm and escorted them to their seats. "Phineas, my old friend, you look fit enough to wrestle a dragon," he said, beaming. They were all comfortably seated as Jenkins served dessert and beverage of choice from a variety of options ranging from coffee to brandy.
"Isn't this lovely?" Katrina commented, as they all settled in. "That will be all for now, Jenkins. Thank you. We'll ring if we need anything."
"Very well, Mistress," Jenkins replied, bowing, as he backed out and closed the door behind him.
"He's so precious," Grandmama Penny laughed, watching Jenkins exit.
"Yes, he is," Katrina nodded and laughed. "I don't know how we would manage without him. But, now that we are all here, I think Draden has a little story for us. And he needed a private place to discuss it. Well, Draden, we're all ears," she smiled, as she made her way through a delightful slice of chocolate trifle.
"Thank you, Katrina. First, let me tell you and Jason how much I appreciate your hospitality. This has always been like a second home to me, and having a safe haven to meet with such wonderful friends only makes it doubly so. Thank you.
"Second, may I impose upon everyone here immediately to cast every charm ye know for security and privacy before I begin," and he paused to consume the remainder of his dessert as Albus, Phineas, Penelope, Wilfred and Snape drew their wands and took him at his word. Katrina did not have her wand on her new frock, and he knew no weakness in security would survive the attentions of those seeing to it.
"Thank you," Draden began, when all had finished. "Pardon me interrupting such delights as this dessert, and pray continue now. It is important, however, that our privacy for the next few minutes be absolute, even from the Ministry.
"It is an interesting time, as you all know. It would appear that the Dark Lord is again attempting to manifest, former Death Eaters are showing disturbing tendencies to old ways, young Potter has begun his career at Hogwarts," Draden paused and smiled as Snape grimaced, "and there is quite a bit of... ahem... maneuvering at the Ministry.
"A good number of Ministry personnel, particularly among the Aurors, want us to shift to something of an 'Alert' status, maintaining a high level of surveillance and preparing for the potential return of the Dark Lord. In the opposing camp are perhaps superior numbers hoping to maintain the status quo, officially adopting a 'wait and see' attitude, but in reality just holding a 'wait and hope' stance, refusing to see or acknowledge any report or information that could possibly threaten their rosy optimism.
"I realize this is all old news to ye, but I needed to explain our extraordinary need for security around the matters under discussion. While many many of us are trying to remain very alert to any whispers of the Dark Lord's stirrings, others, particularly some very highly placed, are doing their very best to turn a deaf ear. I don't need to tell you who is who, but what I'm about to tell you is being very severely ignored, indeed. I've been told, in no uncertain terms, to drop this matter and leave it to my elders and betters to 'take care of'. Read that: 'modify memories as necessary, cover up, and ignore as long as possible.'"
"Well, whatever is wrong, dear? What's happening?" Katrina asked with concern, laying aside her plate and fork, and looking to see that everyone had drinks on hand. Noting that all was well, she turned back to Draden.
"Well," said Draden, rising from his seat and walking over to lean on the marble mantle of the huge and cheery fireplace, "not to put to fine a point on it, people have been disappearing. Muggles, to be precise. First they disappear, then they're found dead."
"My dear boy," Albus began, as Phineas smiled, knowing he was the only man in the room not a 'dear boy' to Albus, "surely the disappearance and death of muggles, unfortunate and regrettable as that may be, does not constitute a crisis for the wizarding world, does it?" Albus looked concerned and curious, not condescending, as he voiced this view.
"No, professor. But I've not made myself clear. I don't mean they simply cannot be located. I mean they disappear. The statements of muggle witnesses, usually family members or close friends, report that the victims seem uncomfortable, short of breath, sweaty and the discomfort increases to the point the witnesses thought the victim was having a heart attack. And then, the victim disappears into thin air. They cannot be heard, seen, or felt. The families don't really know what to do, and they're understandably reluctant to go to the muggle authorities with such a story. But then, within three days, the victim is found somewhere else but nearby, dead. Not only dead, but completely mummified, exsanguinated and dessicated."
"No blood?" Wilfred asked.
"Not a drop. What's more, no moisture whatever, not even inside the tooth pulp or bone marrow. Quite amazing actually. It would be a most interesting puzzle, if it weren't quite so hideous," Draden smiled as he looked over the group. "The Ministry monitors police reports of course, and began to investigate this when the disappearance factor began to appear in a number of cases. Arthur Weasley was consulted, to determine if anything of muggle lore could explain disappearance during some form of heart attack or other illness. When he could not, he started looking into the full cases and, finding the mummification even more astonishing, referred the matter to me, thinking some magical creature must be involved.
"I must confess, ladies and gentlemen, I am quite totally at a loss," Draden spread his hands in a gesture of resignation.
"How many cases have there been?" Wilfred asked.
"Fifteen, so far," Draden answered. "The memory modification department have had their hands full. There has been no sign of magical activity that Ministry surveillance has been able to detect. No spells, enchantments, charms, or conjuring involved that can be determined. The victims just faded away in front of what witnesses there have been, no sign of disapparating, sound or smoke. All that seems to be known is that the victims seem to be experiencing discomfort similar to a heart attack, then they disappear, then up to three days later they are found dead drained of every blood cell and water molecule.
"Well, we do know one other thing," and at this point he looked pointedly at Phineas and Penelope. "We know that the day before at least five of the disappearances, the victims were seen to inhale what seemed like a small pink cloud of what appeared to be smoke. Pinkish-red smoke."
"What concerns me most is the pattern of these deaths. The first we've been able to uncover was in Ireland one month ago. One week later there were two more, one in the area of Glasgow and one near Dumfries. Two weeks ago there were four deaths, two in Scotland, one near Liverpool, and one in Wales. Last week..."
"Don't tell me," interrupted Snape, "eight deaths."
"Quite correct, I'm afraid. Always exactly seven days apart. Thus far there's been quite a bit of distance between the deaths. The National Health Service is being closely monitored. Their theory is a virus, virulant form of flu. Lot's of memory modification involved in that. No muggles are left with clear evidence of the mummifications. But we need to prevent them from looking into this too closely, or attempting to develop a vaccine.
"Still," Penelope interrupted, thinking aloud, "the model is a good one. Binary replication, one week incubation, geographic separation, as though claiming new domain. Infection model fits well."
"Indeed. Well, when I got the information 10 days ago I did some research to find anything that could explain this. I came up with nothing. So I hunted through the archives extensively. The only reports I could find that even remotely rang any chord, was one from 20 years ago written by..."
"Me," finished Phineas. "Pink-red cloud and vampirism or dessication. The Vampiric Mist."
"Indeed," and Draden sat down.
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A/N Please review! I have a plan for where this goes, but I am interested in readers' ideas, suggestions, and speculations. Constructive criticism welcome. -- Mort.